Hidden Agenda

Akasha walks over to her new neighbor and offers a warm hello. He’s the kind of man who fills a doorway—broad shoulders, tight muscles—and the spark between them is immediate. She steps inside, the door clicks shut, and her intentions slide out into the open. She drops to her knees first, fingers already at his belt. Her mouth wraps around him, slow and wet, tongue gliding beneath the ridge as she takes him deeper. He hardens quickly, heavy on her tongue, and her soft moans vibrate around him while her fingers stroke the base. When he lifts her, she turns without hesitation. Hands planted on the back of the couch, she arches her back and presents herself. He spreads her cheeks, spits, and presses the slick head against her tight ring. Akasha pushes back, taking him inch by inch until her ass swallows him whole. She gasps, grips the cushions, then rocks harder, meeting every thrust until the slap of skin fills the room. He pulls free only when he’s close, spins her around, and she opens her mouth just in time. Thick ropes stripe her tongue, her lips, one cheek. She swallows what she catches, then wipes the rest with two fingers and sucks them clean, eyes locked on his.